


So Tell Me About Yourself

by FreshBrains



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Dark Comedy, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hopeful Ending, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony never really got to know her, and now they were going to die in the world’s pinkest room together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Tell Me About Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> For the LJ comment_fic prompt: _any, any, "There's really not all that much between us, is there?" "Just an ever-diminishing amount of blood."_

Tony always knew he’d go down in flames.  It was the kind of life he lived.  Hell, he didn’t expect to live past twenty.  But there he was, twenty-eight years old, squatting in Alison Hendrix’s pastel-colored scrapbooking room and bleeding out of a fucking bullet wound in his gut, trying not to scream in his sister’s face.

“You need to calm down,” Alison said, voice rising hysterically, even though she had a stainless steel knife sticking out of her shoulder like some ridiculous angel wing ready to unfold.  Her face was pale and sweaty, her blouse soaked in fresh blood, but she gritted her teeth like a woman in labor.  “The neighbors will hear and then we’ll be in big doo-doo.”

“I think we’re already in fucking _doo-doo_ , Alison,” Tony growled, pain like embers flashing through his stomach.  He grabbed a bolt of sunny yellow fabric off Alison’s craft table and pressed it to his wound (mostly because he knew it would annoy her).  “And do you really think none of your yuppie neighbors saw a couple’a DYAD suits spraying your living room with bullets?”

“Gosh,” Alison hissed, leaning up to peek out of the small window in the room.  “Just keep pressure on it, okay?  Stomach wounds bleed a lot but it’ll take a long time to die from it.”

“Someone has seen _Reservoir Dogs_ a few too many times,” Tony said, trying to slow each piercing breath.  “Do you see anything?”

Alison shook her head and grimaced, the knife still sticking out from her body.  “No, they’re gone.  They saw us go down and left.”  She squeezed her eyes shut.  “Donnie will see the house and go pick up the kids.  They’ll be fine.  They have to be.  Then he’ll call Sarah and she’ll come help us.”

Tony felt a twinge of sympathy for Alison.  She had a family to protect; he only had himself.  “Talk to me.  Just keep talking and maybe I won’t pass the fuck out on this ritzy-ass carpet.”

Alison sank down onto the floor, giving him a helpless look.  “What should I talk about?  There’s really not a lot between us, Anthony.”

Tony wanted to laugh—Alison was the only one who used his full name—but it hurt too much, both emotionally and physically.  He wrote her off as the uptight sister the second they met, the bitchy one, even though she was always polite to him.  He never really got to know her, and now they were going to die in the world’s pinkest room together.

So he made a joke.  “Nothing between us but an ever-diminishing amount of blood, huh?”

Alison blinked, staring at him for a moment, until her lips curled into a tiny, tight smile and she barked out the world’s shortest laugh.  “Now is _not_ the time for jokes,” she said, but she still smiled, right through the pain of it all.

Before Tony could respond and keep her laughing, they heard the door slam open upstairs and Sarah yell, “Shite, _Alison_!  You down there?”

“Yeah, we’re in here,” Alison yelled, kicking the chair away from the door to let Sarah in.

Once he heard Sarah’s voice, Tony knew he wasn’t going to die.  Not today.  But damn it if it wouldn’t have been a kick-ass way to go.


End file.
